Who Says You Can't Go Home?
by Awahili
Summary: Life after Underland was going well, until Alice's mother falls ill. To ensure her daughter is cared for Mrs. Kingsley arranges a match with the son of an Earl. Can her friends come to her rescue in time or will she be forced into society by marriage?


This started off a one-shot, then I had decided to split it into chapters, then I smushed them all together again. *sigh* The timeline is - I hope - fairly easy to follow. Takes place just after Alice returns from Underland. This is a beast. If you manage to make it through the whole thing, please drop a review. I have another Alice story in the works, but if this isn't any good, I'm not sure if I'll bother.

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It had been nearly a fortnight since Alice's adventures in Underland when her mother made the announcement. Her health was failing, and the doctors did not expect her to make it past three months. Alice immediately halted her business ventures, leaving Lord Ascot her father's company as well as the list of his impossible things.

Margaret, ever the dutiful daughter, took leave of her husband and moved in with her mother, leaving him at their home for a time. Alice knew Lowell merely saw it as an opportunity to continue his dalliances with maids, but she hadn't the heart to burden her sister with any more grief. Lowell would get what he deserved eventually.

A week after announcing her illness, Helen Kingsley became completely bed-ridden. Alice tended to her breakfast and tea time, while Margaret handled lunch and dinner. They took turns bathing their ailing mother, their hearts breaking each day as she grew weaker. The doctor came and went every second day, each time giving the girls looks of sympathy and regret.

One day, at a time when she seemed worst of all, she summoned her youngest daughter into her room. Alice sat on the edge of the duvet, stroking her mother's worn and tired face.

"Alice," she whispered, "my sweet dreamer…" She stared at her fair-haired child with love, and Alice felt tears well up in her eyes as she listened to her mother's strained voice.

"Yes, mum?"

"These past weeks, I have been in correspondence with a lawyer in London," she said. Alice's heart beat faster, wondering what her mother had been writing about. _Did she sell father's company after all? Was she setting her will in order?_ "He has a son, just a few years older than you," she continued, and Alice's face fell.

"Mother," Alice warned softly.

"Alice," Helen's voice was forceful, "I will not be in this world much longer. I wish to see my daughters provided for." She took a shuddering breath and went on. "The man, an Earl of highest standing, assures me that his son is much like you; not one to just accept the normal morays of society. He's handsome enough, so I'm told, and not lacking in money or influence." Alice imagined what such a man would be like, not quite normal but powerful enough to get his way. What sort of wife would he want? One who sat back and allowed him his freedom, or one who joined him?

"I…" she couldn't bring herself to refuse her mother outright, so she said the only thing she could. "I shall think on it." Helen seemed to accept that answer for now, but Alice knew it wouldn't be long before her mother began pestering her again. Seeing her mother exhausted from the talk, Alice placed a kiss on her brow and left the room.

Margaret was standing outside the door with a lunch tray, staring meaningfully at her sister. Alice knew what she was going to say even as she opened her mouth.

"Alice, you'd be a fool not to accept. You turned down a lord, and God knows why. Don't let mother die not knowing you'll be cared for." Alice didn't grace her sister with a response. Instead, she huffed childishly and stormed to her room. She barely managed to resist the urge to slam her door before throwing herself on the bed.

Her mind was still vibrant with images of Underland. True to her word, she hadn't forgotten them. She had the scars on her arm and had endured the soreness in her muscles to prove she'd done more than just hit her head. Images and faces of her Underland friends floated through her memory, and she'd even taken to writing events down in her journal to remember more clearly. She pulled out the journal from under her pillow and opened to the first page – her list of impossible things.

"One, there is a potion that can make you shrink," she recited, more from memory than from reading it on the paper. "Two, and a cake that can make you grow. Three, animals can talk." She smiled as she remembered Nivens and Mallymkun, Bayard and the March Hare; such dear friends and all of them completely mad. "Four, cats can disappear. Five, there is a place called Wonderland." This one she'd underlined. She'd hastily scrawled the word "Underland" next to it after imagining Absolem's cheeky voice in her head. "Six, I can slay the Jabberwocky."

Of all her accomplishments thus far, it was this one she was most proud of. After all, how many proper ladies (or gentlemen, for that matter) can say they've faced down a horrifying beast and not only lived to tell the tale, but defeated it in combat? Smiling, she rolled onto her stomach as she flipped the page, reading the first entry.

_Upon landing the room of doors, remember to take the key __before __drinking the pishsalver. Likewise, to return to normal size once through the door, take only a very small crumb or two of upelkuchen._

She laughed as she remembered shrinking and growing to absurd sizes, her dress never the proper size again. _Wouldn't it be wonderful if someone created clothes from a material that grew and shrank with its wearer?_

After that, she had scrawled directions to the March Hare's house from what she could remember. _South through the Tulgey Wood toward Snud. Once in the clearing, turn west. __Don't forget to duck!_

She laughed to herself, recalling Thackery's odd behavior. The Hatter had told her he'd witnessed the destruction by the Jabberwocky all those years ago, and had gone completely mad from the sight of it. Still, he was a wonderful cook, she thought.

The next page was filled with reminders and notes about the mad tea party. _Compliment the Dormouse's sword, do not refuse a scone (you'll just get it tossed at your head anyway), and don't forget about their unbirthdays. _The last she had recalled from her childhood visit, and she longed for the day she could return and wish them a joyous unbirthday, just to see the looks on their faces.

The page after was filled with all sorts of nonsensical words she had learned from her brief time there, including some Outlandish she'd guessed from the Hatter's ravings. Her eyes roamed the page, reciting the words and their meanings over and over again. She would not forget them – she vowed that to herself every morning and every evening. Instead, her mind often wandered to her memories, and her curiosity about what they were doing now.

As the days wore on, Helen Kingsley grew weaker and paler. Her daughters feared losing her any day, and she'd taken to asking Alice twice a day about her decision. A small part of Alice wished to return to her friends in Underland, but as she grew older she began to realize that it was probably harder to go back each time she left. She was a woman now, having had her twentieth birthday some weeks ago. Still she missed them terribly, and at least once a day her mind was filled with images.

The one that cropped up most often, however, was an orange-haired hatter with brilliant green eyes and a laugh that could make her smile even with its memory. She found herself reminiscing on her time spent with the Hatter, and recalling his devotion to her with a fluttering in her stomach she couldn't identify. Deciding to put it out of her mind – for now at least – she answered the summons she'd received from her mother earlier.

Mrs. Kingsley was propped up in a sitting position, her tired eyes reading a letter she'd received that afternoon. Upon seeing Alice, she smiled softly and tucked the letter away.

"My Alice," she crooned, "sit, please." Alice did so, perching herself upon the edge of the bed. "I have waited patiently for your decision. Have you thought enough on it?" Alice had expected this, and shook her head sadly.

"Mother, I have come to no more a conclusion than when you inquired yesterday. Please give me a little more time."

"Time?" her mother sighed. "I have given you nothing but time, child. In light of this, I feel I have fulfilled the obligations your father would have wanted. Now, however, as you have yet to come to a decision, it shall be my place to do so for you."

"Mother!" Alice stood suddenly, disrupting the stack papers next to her. They each had the same address scrawled in the return, and Alice knew her mother had still been writing to the Earl.

"Alice," her mother's voice was stern now, and Alice dreaded her next words. "I have accepted Philip's proposal for you, after reading Lord Wickes' advice on a law regarding arranging a marriage. He assures me that it is legally binding, so unless you wish to spend your days behind bars, you will marry Philip." Alice knew, at that moment, that her mother had lost her mind. This woman was nearly deranged; surely this wouldn't stand.

"He will be here to retrieve you this evening," Helen continued, "so I suggest you gather the belongings you wish to take with you. And don't forget to come say goodbye before you leave." She turned back to her unfinished letter, leaving a completely flabbergasted Alice standing in the middle of the room.

"Mother, how could you?" was all she could ask, backing away.

"It is for your good, dear. In time, you will see this."

"I won't marry him," Alice stated firmly, but her mother just smiled as if she were just a child refusing to take a nap.

"The porter has been notified. You are not to leave the manor until the Lord Wickes' arrival." Without another word, Alice turned and ran out the door. True to her word, there was a stern man standing at the door. She'd never seen this man before, but Alice didn't like her chances against him. She thought briefly about going out the window, but one look outside quelled that thought. There were men out there, too. Stifling a sob, she whirled and ran to her sister's room. Surely Margaret would see the madness in this.

"He sounds wonderful, Alice," Margaret said. "And you'll be living with his family until then? Imagine the society parties you'll be invited to, and the people you'll meet! I envy you, little sister."

"Then you go!" she spat, running up the stairs and slamming her bedroom door. This time, as she threw herself onto the bed, her tears were flowing freely. She sobbed until she could barely breathe, and as her eyes slipped closed, she whispered a prayer to her friends in Underland.

When her eyes opened, she was in a completely white room, save for a small red door. Alice ran to it, pulling on the knob, but it wouldn't budge. She knew, this time without a doubt, that she was dreaming, but she couldn't help herself. She wanted to return to Underland so badly that she would willingly fall into every hole she came across, or break down every door.

"You have cried to us, and so I answer," an ethereal voice said, and Alice whirled. There, in a beautiful flowing silvery gown, was the White Queen herself. Alice flew over and hugged the woman fiercely before blushing and stepping back.

"I apologize, Majesty," she said with a curtsey. "I forgot myself for a moment."

"Quite alright, my champion. But, if I may ask, why do you bear the marks of weeping? Are you sad?" Alice's conversation with her mother replayed in her head, and she felt the tears once again. Mirana reached out and laid a warm hand on her cheek, stopping the flow before it started.

"My mother has arranged for me a marriage with the son of a prominent lawyer. He is coming to get me soon, but I don't want to marry him! I want to come home, to Underland!" Mirana smiled softly, but it was full of regret.

"Alas, I cannot transport you through this dream, nor can you simply fall down the rabbit hole. That particular portal only works if you _aren't _looking for it, I'm afraid. Why anyone would design a door that way, I'm not sure, but there you are."

"What about the White Rabbit?" Alice inquired. Surely he would have a way to dart back and forth; he'd brought her along twice now.

"Well, rabbits are more attuned to the rabbit holes than we are; that is just the way things are. Even if he came for you, you would not be able to follow him down the the way he'd come knowing where it leads."

"So there is no way to come back?" Alice asked, her face full of terror. Was she forever cut off from Underland and her friends?

"We shall have to seek out another portal, another connection with your world. I shall set my finest scholars on it at once. And once we find it, I shall send someone to get you. You saved us all, dear Alice. It is our turn to save you." Mirana brushed her cheek lovingly once more, and faded from sight.

Alice awoke suddenly, as if someone had pinched her. In the silence of her room, she heard faint voices floating up from the foyer. A glance out the window confirmed her fear; the Earl was here. His carriage was sitting out front, ready for them to return to his home in London.

A knock pulled her from her thoughts as Margaret entered the room. "He's here," she said simply, looking around. "Haven't you packed?" She noticed the tear stains on her sister's face, but kept silent. Her mother had convinced her that this was what was best for Alice, even though she would protest at first. Upon meeting Philip and his family, Alice would settle down and agree.

"I must have fallen asleep," Alice answered meekly. Margaret huffed and pulled a suitcase from underneath the bed. She began hastily folding and packing Alice's dresses, the ones that would be appropriate for society life in London.

"You'll need new attire for some of the fancier parties, but these will do for now. Really, Alice, you should put on a corset." Alice ignored her, grabbing for her journal underneath her pillow.

"Codfish," she mumbled under her breath, watching as Margaret finished filling the suitcase with proper things. Alice managed to toss in her journal before Margaret closed it and latched the lock.

"The porter will come get this. Lord Wickes is speaking with Mother right now, but then I expect he'll want to meet you." Margaret pulled her sister out the door, wondering why she wasn't really fighting. But Alice's mind wasn't on meeting the Earl or traveling with him to his home. Her mind was filled with one thought alone.

_They will come for me._

Lord William Wickes was a stern-looking man with a pointed nose and carefully coifed gray hair. As he stepped out of Helen's room, he turned and looked at Alice, who remembered quickly to curtsey.

"How do you do, sir?" she inquired politely, meeting his stare. He smiled then, softening his features, and Alice felt herself relaxing.

"You are as lovely as your mother described," he complimented. "My Philip is a lucky boy. Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir," she answered. "I should wish to say goodbye to my mother, if I may?"

"Of course," he said, stepping aside. "I shall be in my carriage when you are ready. My man will retrieve your case." Alice waited for him to descend the stairs completely before opening her mother's door. Helen had a sad smile on her face, and Alice felt her heart breaking all over again.

"Goodbye, Mother," Alice said quietly. "I shall miss you." She moved over and gently wrapped her arms around the older woman.

"Alice, my sweet dreamer," she said softly. "I love you dearly and wish only the best for you. One day, you will know this." Alice didn't say anymore, but turned and walked quickly out the door. She knew in her heart that it was the last time she would ever see her mother. She exchanged a small goodbye with her sister, hugging her awkwardly before climbing into the carriage beside the older man. She looked once back at her childhood home, then closed her eyes as she felt the carriage begin to move.

Sometime later they pulled up in front of an elegant manor just outside the city. Hills rolled lazily behind the estate, disappearing in the darkness as Alice stepped out onto the cobblestones. The driver stepped down with her suitcase in hand as Lord Wickes took her arm and led her toward the door.

It opened before they got there, revealing a sharp-faced woman with disapproving eyes. Alice could only assume her to be Lady Wickes, and curtsied low.

"Good evening," she intoned graciously. "Thank you ever so much for your hospitality." The glare on the woman's face receded somewhat. Alice guessed she had been expecting a simple country girl with little manners and no voice.

"Well then, my dear," Lord Wickes smiled, "this is my wife, the Countess Charlotte Wickes of Hardinge. Dearest, this is Alice Kingsley." The woman reached out and took Alice's hand, pulling the young girl inside.

"She's a fair one," she commented, "and pretty in the face. But I am still worried about her…how did her mother put it? Oh yes, her _oddness_." Alice cringed upon hearing such a word, especially knowing it came from her own mother. But still, she'd had enough of the demure act for the day.

"Yes, my lady, and _she_ doesn't appreciate being spoken of like furniture."

"Well then," Mrs. Wickes replied, looking both horrified and impressed. "I see my son has a challenge in you. No matter, it is getting late and Philip will be here in the morning. Diane will see you to your room." She gestured for a lady in waiting to step forward. Diane was an older woman, a motherly figure who smiled kindly at Alice as she escorted her to the east wing.

"Don't mind the countess, love. She has been worried for her son's future for many years now. Imagine, a viscount of his age never having courted a maiden. Why, before your mother wrote to the Earl, we feared the boy would never find a wife." Alice didn't respond aloud, but she did smile flatly, giving the other woman the impression that she was agreeable. Her dream of Queen Mirana had bolstered her spirit, and she would just have to endure until her friends came for her.

Diane opened the door to a room that was easily three times as large as her old room had been. The canopy bed was white with pale blue bedding, and matching curtains blew in the night breeze.

"We opened the windows to air it out," Diane explained, rushing to shut them against the chill. "I told the maids to shut them hours ago." She sounded cross, and Alice shook her head.

"It's alright," she placated. "I like it chilly." Diane clicked her tongue anyway, and Alice knew some poor maid was going to get an earful for absolutely no reason at all. Her suitcase had been brought up already, and Diane moved about the room unpacking the dresses and shoes into their proper places. As she reached for the journal Alice made a hasty grab for it, clutching it to her chest.

"No harm done, dearie," Diane smiled. "I'll just leave you be. Someone will be up in the morning to call you for breakfast. Pleasant dreams, miss." Diane shut the door behind her, leaving Alice alone in a strange room. She took a deep breath and settled down on the bed, pleased to find it soft and yielding underneath her. Wordlessly, she opened her journal and reread every passage twice, cherishing the memories of the only people who truly cared about her.

She fell asleep hoping to see her Underland friends in her dreams, but instead she was plagued with images of being a prim and proper society lady, forever drowning in a sea of false cheer and grace. She awoke exhausted and melancholy, but forced herself into cheerfulness.

"They are probably brainstorming a million ideas to come for me," she muttered to no one, earning her a quizzical stare from the young maid who entered.

"What was that, miss?"

"Nothing," Alice waved, watching as the girl picked out a suitable dress for her, complete with corset. Alice's face screwed up in disgust behind the maid's back, but knew she had little choice. She would have to endure the codfish for some time yet.

Fifteen minutes later, Alice looked like the model Victorian lady, complete with corset and stockings. She followed the girl downstairs and across the foyer into the dining area. Lord and Lady Wickes were already seated, and the Earl stood as Alice entered the room.

"Alice, my dear, I trust you slept well?" Alice nodded politely and took the seat he proffered. "My son should be here momentarily." Alice was left to her own devices for breakfast as Lady Wickes chattered away about the upcoming socialite ball. Alice grabbed a few pieces of fruit and drank her tea, wishing more than anything that it were flavored with some exotic spice. She smiled as she recalled some of the bizarre teas the Hatter had served, but that only made her melancholy again.

"Something amusing, dear?"Lady Wickes's voice cut through her thoughts, and she shook her head.

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm a little nervous about meeting the Viscount," she lied. The older woman seemed satisfied and reached over to pat her hand affectionately.

"My son is a proper gentleman, don't you worry. You shall be treated like a princess." Alice hid her wince at the thought and managed a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "My companions and I have been planning the ceremony, and we feel as though you should be included as well. We will meet over tea this afternoon to discuss floral arrangements, as well as the reception." Alice nodded along, taking small bites of fruit and wishing to be anywhere else in the world.

Suddenly, the door opened and a man of about twenty-five strolled in with an enormous smile on his face.

"My Lord, My Lady," he greeted his father and mother with a handshake and a hug, respectively. Turning to Alice, he stopped in his tracks and his smile softened. "You must be Alice. You are radiant, as your mother said you would be." Alice stood and curtsied to this man who was to be her husband, trying her best not to tip anyone off to her plans.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Viscount Wickes." He crossed to her and grabbed her hand, placing a kiss across her knuckles.

"Believe me, Miss Kingsley, the pleasure is entirely mine." He released her and held her chair as she sat back down, moving around to sit across from her at the table. Breakfast continued as Philip Wickes regaled his parents of his adventures at Oxford, where he was studying law to follow in his father's footsteps. Alice smiled and nodded in the appropriate places, all the time wishing nothing more than to have been given the chance to follow her father's dream. Instead, she was sitting at a stranger's table far away from family and even farther from friends.

"Philip, why don't you escort Alice around the estate and give her a proper tour?" Charlotte said as three servants cleared the table. Philip stood and bowed to Alice, moving quickly to pull her chair out. He offered his arm, which she took, and he led her out the door.

"You are more beautiful than I imagined," he said once they were out of earshot of his parents. "I know this must be strange and frightening for you. I was shocked as well when Father told me. But I learned long ago that it is simply no use arguing with the man. He does it for a living." Alice smiled at his attempt at humor and let her gaze wander to the gardens.

"Those are lovely," she said, gesturing to the daffodils. He reached across and plucked one up, handing it to her.

"Ask, and it shall be yours," he said by way of explanation. Alice had a feeling he was talking about a little more than flowers, but she put it out of her mind. The Earl had told her mother that his son was odd, like she, but so far she saw no evidence to support that fact. He seemed to be just as proper and well-to-do as Hamish Ascot had been, although admittedly easier on the eyes.

Her focus was distracted by a rustling in the bushes, and she whirled suddenly. Philip stopped and let her go as she sank down into the dirt to peer underneath the brush.

"What on earth are you doing?" he asked. Alice smirked, knowing he couldn't see her, and replied cheekily.

"I am looking for a white rabbit in a blue waistcoat." There was silence for a moment and Alice knew he was going to demand she be sent back to her mother for being completely mad. Then a figure crouched down next to her.

"If we both look, we'll find him in half the time," he said, sweeping the foliage aside with his hands. Alice stared at him incredulously for a moment before shrugging and continuing her search. Alas, it was only a small, brown garden rabbit, but they scooped it up all the same.

"I shall name him Conrad," Philip declared with finality. "Well, Sir Conrad," he held up the bunny to his face. "What would you say to some fine carrots and greens?" He held the rabbit with one arm and offered the other to Alice.

"You won't kill him and stew him, will you?" She'd met her fair share of hunters and didn't like them much. Killing a terrifying beast to save a kingdom was one thing; killing a defenseless rabbit for stew was another entirely.

"Absolutely not!" he said with mock indignation. "Not now that I've named him. That would be…odd."

"So what will you do with him?" she asked, placing her hand in the crook of his elbow. He led her back to the kitchens where he dismissed the wait staff. Setting the bunny on the table, he retrieved fresh carrots and began dicing them up.

"Perhaps I shall build a pen for him. Would you like him as a pet?" He offered the vegetable to the rabbit, who promptly nibbled them with gusto.

"Oh no," Alice shook her head. "I would much rather see him free."

"Very well then," Philip smiled. "After he has had his breakfast, I shall return him to the garden." Alice smiled at him in agreement, finding that this man perhaps wasn't as bad as she'd imagined. Still, she thought as she watched him feed the rabbit, he wasn't exactly what she wanted either, simply because he wasn't from Underland. Once more, her mind was filled with images of an brightly dressed man complete with top hat, but she shook it off quickly. She would only make herself sad again, thinking of them.

"Would you do the honors, Alice?" Philip asked, holding the creature out to her. She cradled the warm beast to her chest and Philip watched in amazement as she began to hold polite conversation with the animal, rather than coo at it as he'd expected.

"I imagine you'll be wanting to get back to your busy day," she was saying as they made their way back to the garden. "We are dreadfully sorry if we've made you late for any appointments, but I do hope you enjoyed the carrots. Fairfarren." The last she whispered as she set the rabbit on the ground. Peculiarly, the animal turned and stared at her for a moment before bounding away into the underbrush. Alice stood and dusted her skirt off, not to keen on hearing any snide comments from Lady Wickes should she turn up with dirt or leaves on her dress.

"Come," Philip said after a moment, "we'll continue our tour on horseback." Alice spent the rest of the morning behind Philip on a beautiful stallion. He showed her the limits of the land, which were vast. He told her of their neighbors and how his mother often liked to entertain the ladies at lunch or tea, so Alice shouldn't be too surprised to see them at the table when they returned. He told her of his time at Oxford and of his friends, though he admittedly had few he considered worthy of the title.

"Most at university just associate with me because of my title, not because of me. In truth, there are very few at all who know me and like for who I am. I am sad to say that my father is not among them." Alice nodded her head in empathy; she knew what it was like to have a parent who cared more about image than feelings.

"My mother tried to marry me off to a Lord many months ago," Alice said with trepidation.

"What happened?" Philip inquired. He seemed genuinely interested, so Alice gave him a self-deprecating smile.

"I fell down a rabbit hole and soiled my dress. Then I told him not to bother, and I told my mother to back off. I was set to become an apprentice to my father's company when my mother fell ill." Philip dismounted when they were back at the stables and helped Alice down from her side-saddle position. She briefly thought it was easier to balance sitting astride, but since the only thing she'd ever ridden that way was the Bandersnatch, she didn't think it right to ask.

"Well then, ill fate brings fortune indeed," he said softly. "I am truly happy to have met you, Alice Kingsley. But you seem sad." He was too observant, Alice noted, and shook her head.

"Things are just changing quickly," she assured him, not at all comfortable sharing all of her secrets. "I shall adjust soon enough." He nodded, seeming to accept that answer, before offering his arm.

"I shall escort you to lunch. After, Father has things he wishes to discuss with me, but I will see you again at dinner." He said all of this as if Alice was keeping a journal on his whereabouts, but she chose not to bring it up. She assumed his parents were just as stringent about his activities as her mother had been.

"Ah Alice, Philip," Lord Wickes greeted them at the lunch table as they approached. Just as Philip had warned, there were three ladies in beautiful, frilly dresses sitting at the other end of the table with Lady Wickes. Alice curtsied and greeted them as Lord Wickes introduced them, and she actually smiled at Philip in gratitude as he held her chair for her. Lunch passed in amiable conversation, and soon Alice was left alone with the four other women.

When she entered her room hours later, her head was swimming with colors and fabrics and flower arrangements. She had no idea how much work actually went into planning a wedding, and it seemed as if these four ladies had been planning it for some time. Alice had had little to say in the manner of decisions, but occasionally her gasp of wonder would alert them to something she particularly fancied, and they would consider it for a moment.

Alice lay on her bed and stared at the pale blue canopy, wondering how things were getting on in Underland. Had Queen Mirana informed her friends of her plight, or were they still merrily carrying on their tea parties and unbirthdays completely oblivious? Knowing Mirana, she would probably refrain from telling them before she was certain she could do something, but then Alice thought she had been so sure in her dream.

Very soon, a young maid came by and alerted her to dinner. Alice thanked the young girl – who seemed genuinely amazed that Alice had done so – and found her way to the dining room. Dinner passed in much the same fashion as lunch, only without the three neighbors to prattle on about wedding details. When the food was done, Alice excused herself from the meal and returned to her room upstairs. Sitting in front of her vanity, she closed her eyes and wished with her entire being to see her friends again.

When her eyes opened, she was sitting exactly where she had been, staring at her reflection. Only this time, there was something else in the glass with her. A faint image faded into focus, and Alice smiled at the White Queen.

"Your Majesty," she greeted quietly, not knowing who was roaming about in the hallways. The last thing she needed was for the staff to tell the Lady Wickes she was conversing with thin air. And royal thin air, at that.

"Alice, how are you faring dear?"

"Not well, at all," Alice admitted, fighting tears. "The wedding is set for the first week of July," she said. "That is only a few weeks away!"

"Calm yourself, dear girl. We are working quickly here. We may have found a portal, but it is hard to locate exactly. Then we must go about finding a way through it." Mirana seemed to fade out momentarily, then snapped back into focus. "There is someone here who wishes to speak with you. Just a moment." Alice felt her heart clench fiercely. Was it the Hatter? What would she say to him?

"How's the heart, love?" Chessur's grinning face took the place of the Queen, and Alice both felt relieved and disappointed.

"Sore with missing all of you," she replied honestly. "How are you, Chess?"

"We are all fine," he agreed. "Some of us more mad than others, of course. But that is the way of things here."

"I wish I could be there with you now," Alice cried. "I don't belong here; I see that now. I want to come home." Chessur smiled sadly at her and opened his mouth to answer, but his head turned away from her, then back again. "I am afraid we must go now, Alice. Don't worry, everything will work itself out in the end, love. Fairfarren."

"Fairfarren," she said sadly, pressing her palm into the glass as if she could touch him. He smiled at her one last time then faded out completely. Alice held back her tears until she was buried underneath her covers and pillows.

Her days passed in regular fashion, and she found herself torn between hoping her friends would find a way and worried she was imagining the entire encounter. She was afraid her mind was supplying her with the images of her friends when she needed them most, but then Mirana's voice and Chess' face were fresh in her mind.

Alice and Philip would meet at breakfast and spend the morning in good company, either horseback riding on the estate, or traveling into town, or simply reading. Philip was delighted to find Alice was an avid reader, and didn't admonish her for her imagination. All the while, Lord and Lady Wickes were pleased to see that Alice and their son were getting on.

The wedding plans were marching forward, and Alice found herself both dreading and anticipating the day. Her mixed emotions were cause for more than a few sleepless nights as her mind and her heart raged in a battle inside her. She had found a friend in Philip in the days she'd spent with him, and yet she couldn't find it within her to feel anything more for him than friendship. He was kind enough, and often joined her on flights of fancy (as long as his parents didn't find out). Alice confided in him about her mother and sister, and how she never seemed to quite fit in at parties. In time, she told him about her father and his dream for the future, including her brief stint as an apprentice in his company.

Philip admired the late Mr. Kingsley for his vision, as well as his progeny. Alice was a singularly remarkable woman, and yet Philip could see as plain as day she was holding melancholy within her. Whatever was on her mind was making her sad, indeed, and he only wished she would share it with him. But any time he brought it up, she would deflect the question and refuse to talk about it, leaving him either standing alone or talking about how pretty the flowers were for the millionth time.

For her part, Alice tried her best not to think about Underland and the people she'd left there. More and more frequently something would happen that would remind her of someone or something from her trip down the rabbit hole, and she would grow forlorn. She knew Philip could see, and she knew it wasn't fair to him. But Alice couldn't stop missing them, and found that as time wore on she was missing one of them more than the others. She was seeing the Hatter in her dreams – the regular ones, not ones she could actually talk to him in. In fact, Alice hadn't heard a peep from Queen Mirana or her court since the night in her mirror, and Alice began to fear it was nothing more than a dream after all.

A week before the wedding, when Alice didn't join them for breakfast, Philip took it upon himself to fetch her. He knocked twice on her door, but heard no response. Leaning his ear to the wood, he heard her sobs being muffled by something – probably her pillow. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and strode inside. The sight before him broke his heart.

"Alice," he said softly, sitting on the edge of her bed. She buried her face deeper into the bedding, and he could see the tinge of pink on her ears that told him she was embarrassed of his presence. Instead of leaving her, he reached out his hand and laid it on her back in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

"Alice, love, please tell me what's wrong?" But his words sent her deeper into depression, forcing such gut-wrenching sobs from her small form that Philip was almost keen to call a doctor to tend her. He stood to fetch a maid when Alice turned over and grabbed his sleeve.

"Please, I'm sorry, I just…it's been so long since…and next week is…" She wasn't making any sense to him, save the bit about the next week, and Philip guessed she was apprehensive about the wedding.

"I know, Alice," he said softly, "I know what next week will hold. And I had hoped that these last few weeks here had endeared me to you somewhat. It has taken me so long to finally realize what has been bothering you. You miss someone very dear to you." Alice nodded, her face stained with salty tears.

"I haven't seen him in so long," she whispered, giving away one of her most closely-held secrets. Philip closed his eyes for a moment, steeling his nerves, before he continued.

"Do you love him?" he asked simply, watching Alice's face for any sign of deception.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "He is one of my dearest friends, and I hadn't thought I'd miss him this much. But being so far away from him…it's been eating at me."

"What is he like?" Philip wanted to know of this man who had captured Alice so completely, a task Philip had been trying to accomplish seemingly in vain.

"He's…" Alice trailed off, not knowing how to describe the Hatter to someone who'd never met him. "He's brilliant at his trade. He's a milliner, employed at court." It wasn't a lie, and Philip didn't ask which court. Alice knew which one he'd assumed as his eyebrows lifted in astonishment.

"He must be very talented. But tell me, Alice, what is he _like_?" Alice thought about this question for a moment.

"He is simultaneously the maddest and soundest person I have ever known. He is loyal, brave, and kind-hearted. His humor is boundless, and his laugh could light up a room. He is fiercely protective of his friends, and loves to shower them with hats and tea and gifts." Alice let a little more slip than she'd intended, but Philip didn't seem to be concentrating on her words. His eyes were transfixed on her face, and she wondered what he saw there.

"I have never seen you so happy as when you describe him to me," Philip said quietly. "You must truly love him." Alice paused only a moment before nodding.

"I do," she admitted, for the first time to Philip and to herself. "I love him." Her face fell then, as her mind caught up to her. "And I shall probably never see him again." Philip could see she was headed for another crying, and he pulled out his handkerchief to stave off the tears.

"My dear Alice," he said sweetly, "I may not be your milliner, but you could be happy with me. You and I, we understand each other. You have no idea how hard it has been to find a lady who could put up with my…oddness," he smiled at her, using her mother's word. Alice smiled too; it had become sort of an in joke between them in the past weeks. The next words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "And I have fallen in love with you, Alice Kingsley." She stared at him mutely for a moment before swallowing heavily.

"I will be down for breakfast in a while," she stated, and Philip could see she was retreating from him as usual. He stood up and sighed, tucking his handkerchief back into his pocket.

"I shall see you then," he said, and closed the door behind him. Alice dissolved into sobs once more, only this time she had the heartache of lost love to accompany her tears. After she had no more tears to cry, she cleaned herself up and dressed for the day. She apologized to Lady Wickes for being late to breakfast, but the woman just waved her off and smiled kindly. Alice guessed Philip must have somehow talked to her already, but he wouldn't meet her eyes across the table.

The next few days were tense, and Alice and Philip began making excuses to stay away from each other. Alice, for her part, was still aching to see the Hatter again, to tell him how she felt about him. Philip was both embarrassed for his admission and upset at the idea that Alice could never truly love him. He'd seen her face as she spoke of the man she loved, and Philip knew she had been lost to him before he'd even met her.

Still, the wedding continued as planned, and Philip was sure Alice would grow to care for him. In his heart, he knew it was wrong to force Alice to marry him simply because his father and her mother had invoked a long-forgotten law; but Philip also knew he'd much rather marry her than see her in jail. So, the day of the wedding, he prepared himself to join with her to save her.

Alice was being dressed in her room by three waiting ladies. The white bone corset was nearly cutting off her ability to breathe, and her legs were sweating in the stockings. Why she was in this full dress in the heat of July was anyone's guess, but Alice knew the Lord and Lady Wickes would see their son wed in nothing less than a proper English ceremony.

The carriage ride to the church was quiet as Alice watched the scenery roll by. Margaret had sent a messenger with a note saying their mother wasn't expected to live the night, and so they wouldn't be able to attend. Alice found herself ambivalent to the subject, and realized she'd much rather have Aunt Imogene there than her own mother and sister. Sadly, the woman was still waiting for her prince, and had sent a letter say she couldn't, in good conscience, abandon her house and risk not being there for his arrival.

Lord Ascot had originally planned on attending – to stand in for her father – but business overseas had lasted longer than expected, and he wouldn't be able to make it in time. He'd sent the couple a lovely basket full of exotic Chinese teas and silk, much to the delight of Lady Wickes.

Finally, the carriage came to a halt, and Alice had to be helped out of the coach by two people. Her dress – a large white fluffy thing – draped around her, creating a sort of white barrier between her and other people. Porters held the door as they approached, and Lady Wickes and her ladies rushed inside to take their places as Lord Wickes met her at the entry.

"Are you ready, my dear?" he asked, holding out his arm. He was to escort her down the aisle, as she had no one else to do it for her. She heard the music playing in the chapel, and she shuddered to think how many people were sitting there waiting for her arrival. They were all expecting her to be a proper lady, and a proper wife to an esteemed Viscount. Only Philip knew her secrets, and he stilled longed to wed her for himself. Alice felt herself fighting tears, and hoped Lord Wickes took them to be tears of happiness. He patted her hand affectionately as the double doors opened wide, and the entire congregation stood as one.

The music changed and Alice could see Philip's smiling face at the end of the aisle, flanked by a man she assumed to be his friend from Oxford and the minister. Lady Wickes' friends had led her procession, and so Alice's feet tread on red rose petals as she walked slowly through the throng of people. Her mind was whirling and her thoughts on nothing and everything at once. Lord Wickes placed her hand in Philip's as they reached the front, and Philip turned with her toward the minister.

"Dearly beloved," he intoned, "We are gathered here in the sight of God and the face of these witnesses to join together Viscount Philip Edward Wickes and Alice Kingsley in matrimony. This is an honorable and solemn estate…" Alice turned her face toward Philip as the clergyman continued, and he smiled softly at her in reassurance.

"…anyone can show just cause why they may not be lawfully joined together, let them speak now of forever hold their peace." There was silence for a moment, and Alice held her breath for anyone – _no, Alice, not just anyone_ – to speak up. No one did.

"Who gives this woman to be married to this man?" Lord and Lady Wickes rose together, and Lord Wickes cleared his throat.

"Upon her mother's wishes, we do." And they sat back down. The minister turned to Philip and smiled.

"Philip, do you take Alice to be your lawfully wedded wife in the holy state of matrimony? Will you love, honor, cherish, and comfort her from this day forward, forsaking all others, and keeping only unto her until the day death parts you?" Philip returned his eyes to Alice's face and nodded.

"I do."

"And do you Alice –"

"_Nae_!" The doors crashed open with the outburst, causing everyone to turn suddenly at the intrusion. A man with eyes like fire was barreling down the aisle, headed straight for the couple. But his focus was only on Alice.

Her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes at his familiar voice. Philip looked from Alice to the man who had just made quite an entrance. His coat and trousers were mismatched, though not oddly so, and his face was pale and discolored. His hair, a vibrant and distracting orange color, was combed back underneath an absurdly decorated top hat. But for all his oddity, it was the look on Alice's face that made Philip most upset.

"Hatter…" she whispered, and the crowd gasped scandalously. Lord Wickes stood up – ready to intercept this madman – but Alice rushed past him and crashed into his waiting arms.

"_Dinna fret, hen,"_ he whispered to her in Outlandish, trying to calm her erratic breathing. He was doing his best to ignore the murmurs that were rippling through the crowd. "I have you, Alice." She calmed a little, and he pulled away. His eyes were softening back to green, and she felt herself relaxing in his embrace. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, another voice broke through the silence.

"Excuse me, just who are you?" Lord Wickes was livid at the interruption, and was surprised when the man released Alice and stepped forward.

"I am Tarrant Hightopp, royal hatter to the White Queen of Underland," he stated proudly. Alice held out a hand to stop his tirade, but he wasn't paying attention. Instead, he took another step toward Lord Wickes, pleased when the older man stepped back involuntarily at his advance. "And just what are ye?" he asked, his voice slipping into a dark, foreign lilt. "Just what kind of _slurvish scrum_ goes about forcing maids to marry? Alice is no delicate flower to be displayed, nor a possession to be passed from one hand to the next!" Alice couldn't see his face, but she guessed his eyes were back to orange from the horrific looks he was getting from Lord and Lady Wickes.

"Alice will wed my son!" Lord Wickes said, and Alice had to commend him on his bravery. She'd seen Hatter angry before, but he seemed absolutely furious now.

"_Nae_, she winnae," Hatter's tone darkened again, and Alice stepped forward to lay a hand on his arm. But he closed the remaining distance between himself and Lord Wickes, using every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep from grabbing the man violently. "Not if she doesn't want to," he finished, turning his face half toward Alice. Her eyes flickered from the Hatter to Philip, who had sunk down to the steps.

"I'm sorry, Philip," she said softly. But instead of arguing – as his father no doubt assumed he would – he stood once more and smiled.

"Alice, my dear," he intoned, moving forward to take her hand. Hatter growled low, but stood his ground at Philip spoke. "Is this he?" he asked simply, knowing she would remember their conversation from a week ago. Alice nodded, her eyes showing the smile etiquette would not allow pass her lips.

"Then," he continued softly, "I cannot in good conscience marry you today." Gasps echoed through the crowd, and a few ladies fainted from the shock. Lord and Lady Wickes looked absolutely horrified, and Lord Wickes pushed past Tarrant and stormed toward his son.

"Philip Edward!" he yelled. "This is not your decision! You will wed Miss Kingsley today, or you shall both sit in jail. The arrangement has already been made and –"

"No, Father," Philip turned to address his sire as Tarrant moved to Alice again. She grabbed his coat sleeve and pressed herself into him, grumbling in dissatisfaction as the hoop of her skirt kept him at a distance. Philip was speaking openly now, and Alice turned her face to listen.

"All my life you have been telling me what to do, how to act. Alice is my friend, father, and she likes me for who I am. But she loves him," Philip gestured to Tarrant, missing the look of amazement on the Hatter's face as he continued. "I will find someone one day, Father; someone who loves me for who I am, not for who you want me to be. I declare this arrangement dissolved," he stated, turning toward Alice, "and I wish you nothing but happiness, Alice." She could see the pain in his eyes; he'd truly loved her. But he was right – her heart didn't belong to this world. She stepped away from Tarrant and stood up to kiss Philip on the cheek.

"She will come to you, one day," she assured him. "Just be who you are." Philip lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, much the same as he had the day they'd met.

"Farewell, Alice Kingsley." Alice turned and began walking back up the aisle, holding her head high against the scrutinizing stares and evil looks of the assembly. Tarrant and Philip stared at each other for a moment before the Viscount spoke.

"Take care of her," he said softly, and Tarrant nodded.

"On _that_," he said, adjusting his hat rakishly on his head, "you have my solemn oath. Fairfarren." He turned on his heel and followed Alice out. She was waiting in the foyer for him and threw herself at him once more once the doors closed behind him.

"I was beginning to think no one was coming," she admitted, letting him hear the fear in her voice.

"Shh, love," he whispered. "_Esher brine, naw_." Alice didn't know what he was saying, but her body reacted to his tone and she felt her muscles lose their tension as her body relaxed. When she pulled away from him, his eyes were dark blue-green, and Alice thought she'd never seen such a shade in all her life.

"How did you get here?" she asked, letting her hand fall into the crook of his elbow as he escorted her down the stairs and out the door. There, sitting on the cobblestone pavement, was a beautiful horse-drawn carriage. It was entirely white, as were the two horses pulling it, and Alice had an idea just who was waiting inside. When the door opened, Mirana welcomed them inside with a hug for Alice and a proud smile for Tarrant.

"I was beginning to worry," she told them as the carriage began to move, jostling them for a moment before settling into a smooth ride. "Alice, I imagine you are awfully uncomfortable in that gown. Just a moment." She tapped on the side of her carriage twice, and the motion halted immediately. Queen Mirana stared expectantly at Tarrant for a moment before he understood her silent request.

"Oh, dear me," he said abashedly, "I'll just…be outside." He stepped out of the carriage quickly, but beyond the door wasn't the bustling city Alice had expected. Instead, she saw the beautiful Tulgey Wood she'd come to know by heart.

"Oh Wonderland!" she exclaimed, sticking her head out to get a better view. "How is it we've traveled here so quickly?" Mirana smiled and pulled her inside and closed the door, handing her a modest but lovely dress to wear.

"My dear, your dreams are but a wish away. It seems magic was the key to the door, and that I possess in abundance. Do you need assistance?" Alice nodded fervently, knowing it would be nearly impossible to maneuver out of her corset without help. Mirana unbuckled and untied wordlessly, turning her back as Alice pulled the simpler dress on over her head.

"What should we do with this?" Mirana asked, holding up the ornate wedding gown. Alice opened the door and stepped out, striding right past the Hatter to a stream.

"I think it only fitting," she declared before dumping it in. Tarrant shook his head in amusement, his smile lighting up his face.

"Alice, you never cease to amaze me," he said, giving her a short bow. "And might I say that color is stunning on you." Alice looked down and noticed for the first time she was adorned in a light blue dress with white trim. "It brings out your eyes," Hatter continued, grabbing her hand. "But we mustn't tarry," he shook himself like a dog ridding itself of water. "Tell me, Alice," he said as he helped her back into the carriage, "Did you ever discover why a raven is like a writing desk?"

Alice laughed, and she realized that the last time she'd been this happy was just before she'd slain the Jabberwocky. The White Queen listened as Tarrant regaled Alice with the stories of their adventures after she'd left. Finally, when her curiosity could stand it no longer, Alice interrupted him.

"I'm dreadfully sorry, but what I'd really like to hear about is how you both came to my world. And how we've returned to Underland so quickly." Mirana shared a look with her hatter before taking a breath.

"After your dream, I set my scholars to work on discovering another passage between our world and yours. I am sorry to say that I did not inform you, Tarrant, or your friends as to my first meeting with Alice." The Hatter's green eyes had lightened somewhat, but Alice's soft hand on his sleeve settled them back to their normal green. "I had not anticipated _the Cat_," she said this with about as much love as her mother would give "the devil", but Alice knew exactly whom she meant.

"Chess," Alice guessed. "He does like to…_slurk_ about." Tarrant's eyes lit up at her use of Outlandish, and he nearly jumped for joy before realizing they were inside a carriage and that would most likely upset them onto the road.

"Oh Alice, what wonderful words you use!" he crowed. "When did you learn Outlandish?"

"I picked up a few words on my last visit. I just wrote them down…" she said, then remembered about her belongings and her journal still at the Wickes' estate. Hatter saw her face fall and dropped his voice low.

"What is it? What is the hat…matter?" She smiled softly at his mix-up of the words, but shook her head to placate him.

"It's just my things," she said looking into his eyes with earnest. "I had a few belongings I would have liked from my room at the Wickes' home; like my journal, in which I'd written all that I could remember from my time here so I wouldn't forget you…all of you." Her eyes turned to Mirana as her face flushed pink with embarrassment. If the Queen noticed, she didn't comment.

"I shall send Nivens to retrieve your journal. Anything else?" Alice thought for a moment, then shook her head.

"My silver-handled brush that was a gift from my father. I shall need clothes, of course, but I assume I can find those here."

"Oh yes!" the Hatter delighted. "I can make you so many dresses you'll ne'er wear the same one twice!" His mind began spinning with designs and colors, and Alice laughed at the contented expression on his face.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Alice nodded to the Queen for her generosity, but the other woman just waved her off.

"No need to thank me, my dear. As I said before, it was our turn to rescue you." Alice smiled at that and relaxed back into the seat of the carriage. Her eyes felt heavy from the strain of the day and soon she was napping, her head falling lightly onto the Hatter's shoulder.

When she awoke she was lying in a soft bed in a room almost as large as the one she'd stayed in at the Wickes' estate. The bay window looked out over the rolling hills of Marmoreal, and Alice could see the sun setting over the horizon.

"Well, look who's finally awake," a silky voice cooed next to her ear. Instead of jumping up, Alice rolled onto her side and smiled.

"Chessur," she laughed, "How have you been?" He floated to her and settled down on her comforter, accepting the loving scratch she gave him behind his ears.

"As well as can be expected, love. Are you…here for good?" his question was hesitant, as if she weren't sure herself. But she just laughed again and sat up, happy to note she was still in her blue dress from earlier.

"Of course I'm staying, Chess. I told you all, this is where I belong." He vanished, then reappeared by the door.

"Well then, Alice of Underland," he stated regally, "I announce that dinner is served." And then he was gone. Alice stood and brushed herself off, smoothing out wrinkles and making sure her long, wavy hair wasn't a mess from her nap. She'd been freed of the horrible nest of a hairdo the ladies had forced upon her, and her hair felt as though someone had run a brush through it before laying her down. She thought hard, but couldn't remember even leaving the carriage, much less anything after.

She walked slowly through the halls of the castle, nodding at servants and animals as they passed. A few stopped to welcome her back; others just stared in wonder at her before continuing on their way. Finally, Alice reached the dining hall ad opened the door. Then she remembered to duck.

"Yer late!" Thackery yelled, hurling a scone in her direction. She laughed and picked it up, tossing it back to the mad hare.

"Hello to you, too, Thackery." She patted him on the head as she passed him, and he brandished his spoon at her as if it were a sword.

"Back, you _slurcking_ knave!" he cried, dicing up imaginary foes. Mallymkun huffed but welcomed her back cordially from the other side of the table.

"That is an excellent new sword, Mally," Alice said politely, noticing she no longer carried the old, rusted hat pin. Instead, she'd been fashioned a proper sword, albeit a tiny one. Mally smiled and thanked her, pleased to have it been noticed.

"Alice!" two voices cried out simultaneously, and Alice smiled as the Tweedles waddled over to her. She kissed them each on the forehead, as Mirana had done upon their return from Salazen Grum.

"You two look handsome," she said, noting their new formal attire. They were even wearing bow ties, fashioned no doubt by the Hatter. They smiled at her and bowed, backing up to their seats as a bay filled the room.

"Bayard, how's the family?" she asked as the hound bounded up to her. He reared up on his hind legs and licked her cheek once before sitting before her.

"Bielle and the pups are well, thanks to you, Champion Alice," he said. "Welcome back."

"Welcome home," another voice corrected, and Alice turned to the Hatter. He was seated near the Queen, leaving an empty space between himself and the monarch. Mirana gestured for Alice to sit in the place of honor, though she blushed as she did so.

"Thank you all," she said to them, looking at each in turn. Even Chessur had materialized at the end of the table, stirring his soup lazily with one paw. "But where is Absolem?"

"He's around," Tweedledum answered.

"He's Absolem," Dee answered.

"Contrariwise, he's neither here nor there. He's somewhere in between." Alice laughed at their strange talk, glad to be among them all again. A hand on her arm brought her attention back to the table, and the Hatter held his tea cup aloft in one hand.

"I would like to propose a toast!"

"No toast! Only scones!" the March Hare yelled, tossing another piece of bread across the room. Everyone else picked up their various glasses as Tarrant stood the address them.

"A toast to our Alice, who is most definitely the _right_ Alice and is a right, proper Alice size – which is the best size to be, that is neither too small nor too tall –"

"Hatter!" everyone yelled, and he snapped back into focus.

"Right, well…I have been considering words that begin with a letter M. And after learning of Alice's intent to stay with us, here, for all time, I can only think of one M word that fits." He turned to look at Alice, who now had tears in her eyes. "Miracle."

"Marvelous!" Mallymkun added.

"Magnificent!" added the Tweedles.

"Magical," was Chessur's contribution.

"Mad!" Thackery yelled, causing Alice to duck a sticky bun as she laughed.

"Thank you all, so much," Alice took a sip from her tea cup as the Hatter sat back down. The rest of the meal passed normally for dinner in Underland. Thackery and Mallmykun got into a jam war, the Tweedles spent the last half of the evening trying to out-pinch the other, and Chess kept disappearing and reappearing much to Nivens' chagrin. The Hatter, on the other hand, was deep in conversation with Alice, trying to teach her the language of his kinsmen.

"No, no, no," he laughed, "You need to push your tongue more to the back of your throat. Like this," he made a face that Alice assumed was an exaggeration of the motion she needed, but she just copied him anyway and tried again.

"_Downal wyth bluddy behg hid."_

"Delightful!" he clapped happily for her, and she smiled. "What else?" He seemed to be enjoying this game of theirs, but Alice had begun it with a specific purpose in mind.

"You said something to me earlier," she recalled. "Isher bren?

"_Esher brine_," he corrected, dropping his tone to demonstrate. "It means 'everything's fine.'"

"_Esher brine_," she mimicked, and he grinned wider. She opened her mouth to ask what else, but as her eyes locked with his he leaned in. The swirling green twinkled with merriment as he gazed upon her face, and Alice found that she couldn't look away.

"Thank you for coming for me," she whispered, remembering belatedly that she hadn't actually thanked _him_ for rescuing her.

"_Dinna palaver,_" he said, then he translated. "Don't worry about it. I would do it all over again to have you here with me." She watched as once again his bright green eyes darkened almost instantly, and this time Alice felt something stir in her. Stumbling to her feet, she excused herself quickly before dashing out the door.

"What have you done now, Tarrant?" Chessur asked, appearing by Hatter's head.

"I-I-I don't know…" he stuttered, utterly perplexed by Alice's behavior. And what _had_ he eaten to cause such a flittering in his stomach? He stood up and gave Mirana a short bow. "By your leave, my Queen," he said quickly, and rushed out after her.

There were a few places he checked first to give her time to calm down, but he knew exactly where she'd gone. When he stepped out onto the balcony, she was leaning up against it looking out over the darkening hills. The stars were just peeking from their hiding places, now that it was safe enough for them to do so, and Hatter heard the night bugs beginning their chorus far off in the woods.

"Alice?" he asked softly, not wanting to startle her. She made no sound or move to acknowledge his presence, but as he settled beside her she sighed heavily. Still, she didn't talk and the Hatter grew worried. "Please Alice, I cannot bear to see you sad. When you are sad, you cry, and when you cry the world is darker." He paused for a moment, then continued when she still didn't speak. "Or is your sadness due to the darkness? It's paradoxical indeed, and samewise, it's inevitable. But the sun will be back soon, dear Alice, so don't cry." She turned to him, her eyes a startling blue. There were no tears, as he'd expected, but he barely resisted the urge to brush her cheek anyway.

"_Esher brine_," she said softly. "I was just thinking…about what I'm to do now. What is my purpose now?" Tarrant, the master of clever misdirection, knew the ploy when he saw it. He also understood, however, her need for a little control. She'd been cooped up in a horrible house for weeks, told what to do and who to do it with…he shuddered at the thought. Instead, he focused on her first words.

"Yer learnin' lass," he nodded in praise. "Purpose? Does a champion need a purpose after his mission is fulfilled? I suppose a sword feels mighty useless after a battle as opposed to being in a battle, but what's wrong with a rest between bouts? What if, instead of uselessness, you view this time as your chance to relax? We'll find something, I'm sure. You're awfully clever at uncovering mischief, if my mind recalls correctly." He smiled at her then, the small one he started growing as she smiled back.

"What was I like then? I'm afraid I only recall bits and pieces." He settled back beside her and turned toward the darkness.

"Oh, you were a marvelous, mischievous little girl," he laughed. "I'm afraid I was rather rude to you at the tea party, but those were less than happy times."

"Did you like me?" she asked honestly, not sure where she was going with this line of inquiry. He cocked his head sideways and turned to her, and yet his hat remained remarkably on his head.

"Not as I like you now," he answered softly, regarding her with appraising eyes. "Did I tell you yet how wonderful you look in that dress?"

"I believe the word you used was 'stunning'," she recalled faintly, feeling her heart beat faster within her chest. "Hatter?"

"Hmm?" he asked, his eyes never leaving her face.

"You seem…it's just that…well, the thing is…"

"Oh my, it seems a grynx has gotten garbled up in your throat," he said shaking his head. He reached forward and grabbed her chin, pushing her mouth open and peering inside. He looked around as Alice stood there, clearly exasperated. But the small smirk on his face told her that was exactly the reaction he'd wanted, and she pushed his hand away and sighed.

"Never mind," she said finally, turning away from him.

"I'm sorry Alice, I didn't mean to make you self-conscious…it was just a little fun." He grabbed her elbow in an attempt to halt her exit, and when she didn't fight him he turned her around. "In Overland, that…man," he said, finally settling on the right word. "He said you loved me." Alice ducked her head, casting her eyes to the floor, but Hatter lifted her chin with one finger. This time, there were tears in her eyes.

"I thought about you every day," she admitted aloud. His face showed no surprise, and Alice wondered briefly if he'd known even before she had. But she never got the chance to ask him as he took a bold step forward and brushed her hair away from her face before leaning down to kiss her.

It wasn't forceful nor lacking, neither passionate nor chaste. It was, in Alice's estimation, the perfect kiss. She felt his arms reaching around her waist, and her arms wound themselves around his neck of their own accord. After a few moments he pulled away, and Alice saw that his eyes were darkening from their normal hue to the color of the finest jade.

"You have the most expressive eyes," she said softly.

"Aye," he replied in a tone so heavy that Alice knew he was barely maintaining control. She stepped away from him, both thrilled and scared when he growled low in his throat at her retreat.

"Hatter –"

"Call me by my name, lass," he said softly, with just a hint of his Outlandish heritage slipping through.

"Tarrant," she corrected, watching with fascination as his green eyes darkened again till they were near black. She took a breath, wondering what exactly they were to do from here. It was clear from his actions that they were on the same page, but with the Hatter some things were just better stated aloud.

"Alice?"

"I'm sorry, my mind was wandering…" He smiled in sympathy at her words, and her mind detoured once again wondering how many times a day his thoughts skewed away from their initial intent.

"Could you tell it to keep a careful lookout for my mind?" he inquired lightly. "It's been wandering for so long now, I'm afraid it's lost its way home." Alice laughed as his innocent expression, and stepped forward again.

"Tarrant," she started again, completely disregarding what she had been about to say. "Can you teach me more Outlandish?" He stared at her for a moment, as if he'd been expecting an entirely different question, but immediately he brightened and grabbed her hand. Alice laughed happily as he began pulling her along behind him. She shelved her original question for another day at seeing his excitement. Right now, she would be happy to just be near him, laughing and being mad together. There was plenty of time for more…later.

* * *

Okie dokie. There it is. Just a quick Outlandish translation guide for you. First, the ones I've made up. I'm compiling an Outlandish dictionary. Some of it's from the script, some of it's from Carrollian literature, and others I just made up from Old Scots, as that's the best estimation I can find for Outlandish. If you want a copy for your stories, let me know and I'll send it to you when I'm done. Just be sure to credit me if you use them.

_Esher brine_ - Everything's fine

_Dinna fret_- Don't be afraid

_Dinna palaver_- Don't worry (said in the same way you or I would say "Don't mention it" A sort of "you're welcome)

_Slurvish_ - selfish, self-centered (taken from original script)

_Slurk_ - sneak, slink (this is an estimation based upon the script)


End file.
